Still in the Midst of My Existential Crisis

Well, it's mostly the day to day crap -- literal and figurative -- still getting me down.

Yesterday was actually pretty good. I got my tires all inflated without blowing myself up. Hutton had a school conference that didn't go too badly. I didn't find the missing lug nut key from my car, though. It wasn't in my car or in the parking lot of Fred Meyer on Thursday afternoon or Friday morning when I checked. Hubby came home from his trip last night in time to see the boys before bedtime.

Today is back to the crap. Hubby double-checked for the missing lug nut key. (My car wheels have a "special" anti-theft lug nut, which needs a special tool to remove it. You know, because my tires are always getting stolen when I'm running errands in the 'burbs. Anyway, the special tool got lost in the hubbub of my tire change the other day. It's possible the man who helped me change it put it in his pocket, or left it on the curb, etc. Who knows.) It's gone though, and Hubby was nice enough to point out when I asked if he had any luck finding it, "No, but I'm sure it will only cost $200 to replace it." Yes, Hubby, I always need to feel worse about my screw-ups.

So, he left to go get a new tool from the car dealership, and asked me to call for service to our microwave while he was gone. I just did that. They'll be out Tuesday, Nov. 27th sometime between 1 and 5, and will charge us $79.99 for the service call, not including what it costs to actually fix the microwave. Did I mention how much I love cooking the old-fashioned way? No? Wait, I don't like cooking the old-fashioned way. I don't like cooking at all, in fact. I just miss being able to heat up my coffee without running the risk of shattering my favorite mugs, or being able to get Hutton's special nitrate/nitrite free hotdogs cooked that much faster at lunch time. I don't feel like cooking for Thanksgiving as it is. This just cements it for me. I don't enjoy celebrating Thanksgiving with just immediate family. It doesn't feel like a real holiday to me unless there are other guests in the house. I love my kids and Hubby (sometimes), but don't really want to bust my butt all day making a meal that only two of us will possibly enjoy.

Sigh.

Hutton slid on the bathroom rug yesterday and hit his eye on the corner of the bathroom vanity, and now has a cut and partial black eye. At least that happened after his school conference, and since he doesn't have school next week, hopefully it will be healed before he goes back. Hopeful, yeah, that's me. Full of optimism and cheer.

Life Is Shit

Well, you'd think that after Tuesday's sad post, I'd be thinking, "Life is beautiful. I must live life to its fullest, enjoy every moment I've been given." Nu-uh. I'm doing some self-centered dwelling on my own problems.

Today started with my car getting a flat tire. Luckily, I was able to drive to the parking lot of a store nearby. I attempted to change the tire. The lug nuts wouldn't budge, even when I was standing, then jumping up and down on the lug wrench. Of course, my cell phone wasn't in my car, so I got Hutton, who didn't have school today, out of the car and went in the store to try to call Hubby. I only had a quarter, and the pay phone cost fifty cents. I had a calling card, so tried that. No go. Apparently the calling card was expired. Got change for a dollar, and called again. Voice mail. Went back to the car, and danced on the lug wrench again. Nothing. Back to phone, left message for Hubby with the number of the pay phone at the store. A man saw me and had seen my issue outside, and asked if he could help. Yes, please!

He got the lug nuts loosened, by standing on the wrench himself, and apparently the extra 50 pounds or so did the trick. He even got the fancy anti-theft lug nut off, and the car jacked up. The tire wouldn't come off. I turned the steering wheel a few times, trying to straighten the wheel, and the car fell off the jack. Fortunately, no one was hurt, and the falling car apparently loosened the tire enough that it was able to come off. The nice man changed my tire for me, and I got the flat tire and tools thrown back in the car and thanked him profusely, then drove home. Left another message for Hubby that someone helped change my tire, and asked where I should get a new tire, as my old one had a hole on the side and wasn't repairable. I picked up Harrison, and Hubby called back. He was on his way to the airport, and sorry he missed my call. I'd forgotten about his overnight business trip. He told me the full size spare would be fine until this weekend, just to fill it with air.

I went home again to use our air compressor to add air to the spare tire. I then scared the crap out of myself when the air compressor stopped, and I pulled a random lever, and it suddenly blasted a bunch of air out and started again. I decided not to fill the other three tires, since I couldn't decipher the PSI information inside the gas tank and I'd already caused my heart to stop once with the air compressor already. I didn't want to blow myself up, leaving the boys and pets without food until Friday night, when Hubby comes home. I put the jack and other tools back in the trunk, but realized the special anti-theft lug nut removal tool was missing. Great.

I went upstairs to do some online research on tire PSI and where to find a replacement lug nut tool, when I heard Harrison crying downstairs. I went downstairs to find Harrison standing in his room, pantsless, with a circle of liquid poop around him. Much like the air compressor, steam blasted out of my ears at that point. I picked up Harrison and deposited him in the bathtub, where I sprayed him off, then told him to stay put while I surveyed the damage. Apparently, Harrison had made it to the bathroom, took off his pants, but still managed to poop in his underwear. Then, instead of finishing on the potty, he ran to his room, trying to hold everything in while he got some new underwear. Guess that didn't work. I deduced this from the trail of poop from the bathroom.

Oh yeah, our dishwasher door is cracked, from a few weeks back. I ordered a spare part and replaced that, so it runs, but it still needs a new liner. Plus, our microwave stopped working this past weekend. These are both lovely GE appliances from our kitchen remodel seven years ago. (My Dad worked for GE in the 70s, doing something with industrial batteries. I have it in my head that his working with toxic materials in the 70s is part of the reason he got cancer and died at age 58.) Bad things seems to happen in cycles for me. Can this cycle please end now? My theme song always returns to this one.
W
hich brings me to another song I heard today, shortly before my tire went flat. I was thinking about this song as I drove to get Harrison with the spare tire on. I don't know if I believe in reincarnation or not, but I think I must have been a child molester, murderer or rapist in a past life. Maybe all three. That's the only way to account for the really crappy spells in life. In my next life I'd like to be a happy bunny rabbit, or a butterfly, or something nice like that. Of course, I'd probably be eaten by a predator right off the bat. Siiiiiggghhhh. Serenity now! Back to PSI research. And perhaps another trip to the Fred Meyer parking lot to see if I can find the lug nut tool attachment.

Personal Service

This morning, as I was lying in bed, trying to wake up, though I'd been up a few times already to get Harrison back in bed at 4:30 a.m. when he woke up saying, "Watch it again!" and with Hutton jumping in bed with me and doing his version of the worm a few times (you remember that old breakdancing move, don't you?) I was trying to gather my thoughts to remember what I needed to do.

Finally got moving and did the first thing -- schedule an appointment tomorrow for the lovely Jetta to have recall maintenance done on her brake light, which happens to be burned out anyway, so I needed to get it done. Then I saw the email messages from the teacher and the ABA consultant about school for Hutton next year. I tracked down the special education director's phone number and left a message that I need to go observe the first grade contained class at Sunrise* Elementary. Yes, now that it's the LAST WEEK of school. I love being frazzled, really. But we just had Hutton's IEP, and then re-evaluation last week, so I didn't know what everyone else thought would be best for Hutton until last Wednesday, then Thursday was the big field trip, and Friday we had his ABA session. Oh well. I'll get it figured out.

Another email just read came in, from our insurance company, telling me that Hutton's coverage for ABA was set until September, then we'd need an update. OK. The last line was the one that really got me: "I hope Sutton is doing well~!" Hmm. Did you not notice that his name was Hutton one sentence previous? Do you think we have one of those kids whose name gets changed around as often as possible, to keep him on his toes? Good idea! Better go get Barrison a snack. Hey! I like it!


*Sunrise -- I'm feeling weird about this school, that I know nothing about, because of a cat, of all things. My in-laws have lots of cats. They had a few, then after Hubby's grandmother passed away, his parents went to clean out her house and there were lots of cats, thanks to the fact that her "intact" kitty had just had a litter.
One of these kittens, Sunrise, has Kitty CP or something that caused him to have no motor skills in his hind limbs, so the poor thing lives in the back bathroom with a gate up to keep him inside. He has lots of uncontrollable twitches and drags himself along on his front paws. I just feel bad every time I see this cat. He's a beautiful gray cat with yellow eyes, but doesn't get to the litter box well, and...it's just not the best situation for a cat, let's say. And every time I hear the word, "Sunrise" this is what I think of. If "Sutton" ends up in Sunrise Elementary....well, we'll see!

Another Gray Monday - Yeehaw!

It's another gorgeous day in the Pacific Northwest. No sign of sun, rainy and gray, and it looks like it could be dusk outside. No, it's 10:30 a.m. I really need to get a spectrum light.

For those of you who've been wondering about that little minx, Jetta (what, you don't remember Jetta? My tempermental car?), she went in to the shop Wednesday. That afternoon they called to say it was a fuel injection problem and they'd fix her up with a new filter, and for only $80 we'd be good as new. I relayed the news to Hubby, who gave me his, "I'm very skeptical" look, then said, "Yeah, I don't think that's the problem." Sure enough, that night when I drove Jetta to my soccer game, on the way home, that good old engine light came on again. At least this time she didn't go into limp mode. I told Hubby, who said he'd take her in again tomorrow, and that he was afraid it was the transmission.

Sure enough, the next morning, I picked Hubby up from the car place, where Jetta was getting a brand new transmission. Woohoo. Friday we got her back, driveable again, but responsible for the big chunk missing from our bank account. Not that we need that during the Christmas season. No, plane tickets for a family of four, car rentals, and gifts for everyone are free these days -- didn't you get the email? No? You must have thought it was spam and deleted it. Nope, re-read those "Gift Card Confirmation" emails. Oh, wait, it WAS spam. Crap.

Snowy Days Just Lead to More Rain

Well, it's the end of the week, but it seemed pretty slow and mellow. Probably because Hutton's school was cancelled every day but Monday due to our huge blizzard. Cough. Really, it was just a few inches of snow, but that was enough for our district to be overly cautious. Monday I went out with Harrison to buy a hat and gloves for Hutton, and some boots for both boys. Tuesday we didn't leave the house; we stayed inside in a snow coma. Wednesday we went outside and played in the snow a bit. Hutton attempted to sled using a cardboard box. It wasn't ideal for sledding, I found. Note to self: buy a sled for the next time it snows.

Thursday was back to the routine in terms of speech therapy, but still no school. My friend and her kids came over to play, then the boys and I went to Target so I could spend money on things I don't really need. I like to alternate my Target trips -- every other time I buy things I need. The other times I get sucked in by, "Oh, that's new! I think I'll get that." I bought a "winter" slipcover for the couch, some Christmasy tablecloths, and a poinsettia. So, not too bad -- they're somewhat useful, though I could have definitely survived without them.

Today was the really fun day, though. Fun in the sense that it was crappy. Well, not that bad, but the worst of the week. It started out with the fact that I had to -gasp- drink tea instead of coffee, since I forgot to buy coffee the last time I went shopping. Then I was late getting in the car to take Hutton to ABA therapy. Then my car started acting wonky when I got on 520. The "ESP" warning light lit up. ESP in this case stands for Extra Stability Protection, but it could have been that the car really does have ESP, had an idea it was going to have some big issues in the near future, and was giving me a heads up.

Now, I'm going to share something a bit embarrassing with you: I name my cars. Yes, I'm one of those people. My cars have been: Cecil, the powder blue Civic hatchback, Elliott, the "titanium" Escort (titanium is a fancy car paint name for beige), Jackson the black Prelude (I didn't like any P names for alliteration, so went with Jackson as Jacksonville was his point of entry in the country), Sven, the silver Volvo C70 (I didn't really call him that very often, and I think I should have named him Mulva - you know, the rhyming version of the part of the female anatomy that you get from changing a couple of vowels in Volvo), Jimmy, the green Jimmy (that was a given, as he was already named), and lastly, Maddox, the green Acura MDX. This was before my current car, the goldish/beige Volkswagen Jetta stationwagon, who hasn't really clicked for a name yet. Though all of my previous cars have been boys, Jetta is definitely a girl. She's bitchy and temperamental, you see. I've thought of just calling her Jetta -- like Jimmy, she already has the name. It's the name of the bitchy girl on Clifford the Big Red Dog, too.

Back to the car warning light situation -- Jetta started with the "ESP" light. I, of course, had no idea what that meant - a triangle of arrows with a big exclamation point in the middle. I don't speak car German. I don't even speak human German, other than my favorite word, gemutlik. The triangle of arrows corresponded with Jetta making funny noises and not having decent acceleration. Which is great when it happens as soon as you get onto a highway. Pressing the gas pedal all the way to the floor, hearing the car not upshifting, and seeing the speedometer stay on 40 is really fun. Jetta continued to do this off and on, with the warning light staying lit, the entire way to the UW. Since I was late for Hutton's appointment, I didn't want to pull over and try to figure out what was going on. Jetta managed to get up to 60 sporadically, and I stayed in the right lane. I managed to get the owner's manual out, and found the warning light page which I read in bits and pieces as I drove. (Yeah, I'm all about safety on the road!) We made it to the UW a mere twenty minutes late, and I brought the manual in with me to read while I waited. I wasn't too concerned. Figured the ESP light came on because of some slush I drove over getting on the 520, and maybe it would go off when I turned on the car later.

After lunch, when I turned on the car so we could drive to another of Hutton's appointments, which conveniently enough, I was also late for (hey, we were all enjoying our lunch, and I lost track of the time!) the light wasn't on. Phew. Wait, scratch that. There's the ESP light again. Oh, and here's a universal symbol I know -- the engine light! Joy. Jetta revved and made all sorts of fun noises while refusing to go over 35, and we arrived 15 minutes late to our next appointment. Fortunately, I had the perfect excuse both times for my lateness. Darn car troubles! During the second appointment, I called Hubby and he said he'd meet me at the car dealership in an hour and a half, that he had a conference call. I then called the car dealer, and was told they were "shutting down for the day" -- at 2:30 on a Friday. Yeah, it's one of those dealers. Then he said, "I'll put you down for Wednesday. How's that?" Uh, great. Really amazing how you fit me in like that.

I drove home on the back roads to avoid being run off the road in my car, which I now knew was driving in "limp mode." It was OK until I hit Hollywood Hill. I put Jetta in third gear as she huffed and puffed. No go. Pull over to let three cars pass. I made it up to 20 mph again. The hill got steep again. How about second gear? No better. How about first gear? I managed to creak around a curve in the hill going 15. Pulled over to let another car pass. I finally made it to the crest of the hill, and practically coasted home in neutral. Yeah, I'm really looking forward to the drive to the dealership Wednesday. There's another big hill the other way, too.

So, back to the car names. If there is a serious issue to these car warning lights and "limp mode," I'm thinking of calling Jetta Cassandra instead. She did give me those warning lights, after all. Didn't just stop driving all together on the 520 bridge over Lake Washington. For that, at least, I'm thankful.

We'll see....